Ominous Leather
by bettevelour
Summary: "Betty reached up, her hand hesitating over his shoulder before she changed her mind and held his cheek. She wasn't ready to touch the leather, acknowledge this change in Jughead." Takes place after S1 finale. Betty is hesitant for Jughead to be a Serpent, but she can't help noticing how good he looks. Betty brings out Darker Betty to help Jughead & solve Fred's shooting. CH 2 UP!
1. One: Bloody, Pulpy Fiction

A/N: This takes place after the season 1 finale. Talk about hot and heavy – so sad Bughead's make out was interrupted, but at the same time, who doesn't want to see Jughead in a leather jacket? Anyways, this is my interpretation of what will follow. Writing this down helps (a little bit) with the anxiety of having to wait months for answers in season 2! I hope you enjoy. I expect this to be a longer piece with several chapters. Currently the story is rated T, but later on it might change.

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the Archie comic characters or the CW storyline.

Chapter 1: Bloody, Pulpy Fiction

If someone had told Betty Cooper last summer that she would be dating a Southside Serpent within the year, she would've spat her milkshake in the person's face. And yet, here she was doing just that.

Two weeks had passed since Fred Andrews was shot in Pop's Diner. He survived thanks to the quick response time of the paramedics, but barely. The paramedics immediately took Fred to the hospital where the doctors rushed him into surgery. The bullet had caused a lot of internal damage, and the doctors had to remove part of his intestine. His recovery was slow and arduous. After two weeks, Fred was still set up in intensive care, a tube down his throat, his chest rising and lowering with the rhythm of the machine. The doctors were unsure how soon he would recover or if he would ever go back to normal. Archie barely left his side.

As for Betty's relationship with Jughead, Betty wasn't sure what to think. A part of her felt guilty for what happened to Fred, as if her speech at the Jubilee had somehow instigated the attack. She knew that thought was ridiculous, but the sentimental part of her hated feeling out of control, hated that she didn't know how she could help Archie's family. Betty blamed her mother for instilling this need in her to be useful or in control all the time. Betty didn't even know how to turn to her boyfriend, Jughead, about all this. She wanted to trust him, but that slithering serpent up the back of his new jacket put a wedge between them.

After the serpents stopped by the night of the Jubilee, Betty didn't stick around long. Peering through the doorway of F.P's trailer, Betty eavesdropped on Jughead's conversation with Big Red, the new leader of the Southside Serpents. It wasn't the conversation necessarily that disturbed her, but more so the dark grin that spread across Jughead's face as soon as he put on the jacket. For a minute, it felt like Betty didn't know him at all.

"Why did you accept that?" she asked Jughead as soon as the serpents left, her hands on her hips. She'd put her shirt and jacket back on, the belt of the pea coat tied slightly too tight around her waist. It pressed against her ribs, constraining her breath. She could still feel the heat of Jughead's fingers on her hips, the memory of him lifting her onto the kitchen counter pressed on her skin like a fresh sunburn.

"I don't know," he said. He didn't look her in the eye. Jughead looked strange in the new jacket, even more odd without his hat. Almost like a stranger.

"Are you a serpent now?"

"I don't know, Betts."

"What do you know?" Betty said, gesturing wide with her arms, taking two steps towards him. She saw him flinch from her tone. Betty looked away from him, taking a deep breath to calm down. "I… I think I'm going to go."

He reached out to touch her arm, the leather of his jacket crinkling at the elbow. "Please, stay. I'm sorry…"

"Don't. Not now, Juggie. Tonight was…" She paused, making eye contact with him. Strange? Amazing? Terrible? She didn't know how to finish her own sentence. How could she be both mad at him and want him more than anything at the same time? "I don't know what to think about tonight," she said finally.

"Betts, I…" He stopped, lost for words. A rare moment for her articulate, brooding boyfriend to struggle to find the right thing to say. Most of the time he was philosophical or had a sarcastic quip to alter the mood. The rare times he got like this and struggled to find something to say, she found it endearing, especially when he struggled to articulate how he felt about her. But not tonight.

Betty reached up, her hand hesitating over his shoulder before she changed her mind and held his cheek. She wasn't ready to touch the leather, acknowledge this change in Jughead. "Goodnight, Juggie."

She moved to leave, but he held her hand to his cheek. His touch was warm, so comforting. That earlier stirring in her stomach woke up again. Obviously she'd desired Jughead for months now, even fallen in love with him, but tonight had been different. The way they touched each other earlier was new to both of them. His grip on her body had been hard, the kisses down her neck lustful. It was as if an animal had been hiding in her lower abdomen, buried dormant in an egg for her whole life. But Jughead had woken the animal up. The animal was pecking at the shell of the egg, trying to break free and come out. Whatever animal it was wanted Jughead _bad_.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" He said, looking into her eyes. "Please?"

She nodded, looking at the door. Betty pulled her hand away. She tried not to notice the hurt expression on Jughead's face. Without saying another word, Betty left the trailer and walked home. She thought she would cry, but somehow her face remained dry the entire walk home.

The next morning, she had no time to agonize over Jughead. Her mother, Alice, shook her awake.

"Betty, wake up," Alice said. "We have to go."

Groggy, Betty blinked twice looking around confused. The clock read 8:46 AM. "Go where mom?"

"The hospital. Fred Andrews…" Alice paused, letting go of her daughter's shoulders. "He's been shot."

All sleepiness dissipated. Betty sat up more awake than she'd ever been for any cheerleading practice. "What? By who?"

"I don't know the details, Betty, but we should go," Alice said. "He's in critical condition."

Even though Alice wasn't the biggest fan of the Andrews family, Betty saw the concern splayed across Alice's face. This was serious.

Not bothering to shower, Betty got dressed and threw her hair up into a bun. Barely glancing at her mirror, she knew it wasn't her usual pristine ponytail, but that didn't matter today. The two women rushed to the hospital, Alice speeding the whole way.

When they arrived, they found Archie in the waiting room, pacing back and forth. His cast on his arm and his shirt were soaked with blood. His face was paler than usual, almost a sickly blue, the same colour as the ice he had to break through to get to Cheryl.

Betty rushed to her oldest friend, pulling him into her arms. "Archie, are you okay? What happened? What can I do?" All the questions rushed out of her mouth. She wasn't sure which once was the priority.

"Who did this Archie?" Alice asked.

"I, I –" Archie stuttered, stepping back from Betty. "I don't know. Someone tried to rob Pop. We were there for breakfast." He shook his head and reached up to grasp his flaming orange hair. "Dad just wanted to get breakfast and _talk_."

Horrified, Betty wanted to reach out and hold him again, but she felt stiff. She'd never seen Archie this scared. His world was falling apart in front of him –Fred was the most important person in his life. Betty wanted to hug Archie, tell him everything would be fine, but she couldn't move.

Alice glanced at Betty, and seemed to somehow understand her daughter's predicament. In a rare show of affection to the Andrews boy, Alice stepped forward and pulled Archie into a hug. "Archie, it's okay. I know you're scared. Let's just wait and hear from the doctor. We're here for you."

Archie gave in to Alice's embrace, his head tucked on her shoulder, and he wept. He wept the same way he did that day when he was six years old when Reggie Mantle had shoved him into a ditch, scraping up Archie's chin and knees. That was the last time Betty had seen her mother hug Archie. So many years had passed, but somehow Archie looked the same in this moment at the hospital as he did as a child. Betty almost felt like laughing at such a ludicrous memory in such a serious moment.

"Do you want us to call anyone?" Betty asked after a few moments, finally getting the strength to speak and move again.

"I haven't called anyone," Archie said, regaining some semblance of control. Wiping his damp cheeks as he pulled away from Alice, Archie smiled faintly at Betty's mom in gratitude. "Well, I called my mother. She's flying in."

"And the police?" Alice asked.

"The server at Pop's called both the police and the ambulance. Pop is alright, just some bruises and a cut above his eye," Archie said.

"Oh Arch," Betty said. She wanted to cry at how thoughtful he was thinking of Pop even when his own family was under duress. Betty didn't know what other words of comfort she could offer at the moment. "I'll make some calls."

"While Betty is doing that, let's go get some answers about Fred's condition," Alice said. She had her serious journalist face on. No one said no to Alice Cooper when she looked like that.

Walking down the hallway, Betty called Veronica first. Her best friend was half asleep when she answered.

"Ronnie, you better get to the hospital. I don't mean to scare you, but this is a major emergency," Betty said.

"What's happened, B?" Veronica asked. Betty heard her shuffling around, probably getting out of bed.

"Archie's dad was shot this morning," Betty said. She was surprised at how easy the words slipped out of her mouth. "Someone tried to rob Pop's when they were at breakfast, and Fred was shot in the mix up."

"Oh my god, oh my fucking god," Veronica said. "But, but Archie was _just_ here. He just left my place this morning!"

Betty raised her eyebrows and glanced at her phone. She and Veronica would definitely have to have a chat later.

"Fuck, okay I'm on my way," Veronica said. "Is Archie alright?"

"Well, he's not physically hurt," Betty said. "Which is as okay as he can be right now. Just get here quick. He needs you."

The two of them hung up. Betty stared at her phone. She knew she needed to call Jughead, but she paused over his name in her contact list. Whatever happened last night, Archie's father was much more important. Betty tapped his name so her phone began dialling.

"Betty?" Jughead sounded like he was already awake, which was surprising. "I'm glad you called. I was thinking we should –"

"Juggie, there's no time to chat. I don't mean to be abrupt, but we have an emergency. You need to get to the hospital ASAP," she said. Betty explained as much as she knew about Fred's condition. "Please hurry," she finished.

"Holy shit, I'm on my way," Jughead said. They hung up. She was both relieved they didn't have to talk about last night yet, as well as guilty for thinking about her relationship during a time like this.

Betty sat with Alice and Archie in the waiting room. Despite her harassment, the nurses didn't have much of an update for Alice. Fred was in surgery, and that's all they knew so far.

"No bad news is good news," Betty tried to comfort Archie. She reached around Archie's back and rubbed her hand up and down his spine.

Alice went in search of coffee or tea.

Archie barely spoke. "I can't get the look on his face out of my head, Betty," he said. "My dad was so scared. So fucking scared. He pushed me aside so he took the bullet. All I could do was hold him while he bled on the floor." After that, Archie put his head in his hands. Although he didn't cry again, Betty felt like the slow rocking back and forth was almost worst.

Instead, Betty talked to him. She told him whom she called, assured him his mother was on her way, the police were doing their best, and that the surgery would go well. Betty hated how unsure she felt. Everything that came out of her mouth felt like a lie. She knew it wasn't a lie, but she hated that she couldn't guarantee any answers. Archie deserved answers.

Nurses and patients rushed by them, pushing through the doors to the emergency room. Usually hospitals felt so slow to Betty, as if nothing happened fast enough. That morning, everything felt like it was going by too quickly.

Veronica showed up first. Like Betty, she clearly had dressed in a rush. Obviously she still looked more fashionable than Betty, but Betty ignored that thought as she watched Ronnie pull Archie into an anxious hug.

Kevin showed up not much later. Betty hadn't called him, but Kevin explained his sheriff father had told him what happened.

Finally, Jughead walked in. Although Jughead was back in his flannel jacket with suspenders hanging around his waist, Betty felt like she could still see the leather around his shoulders. The serpent jacket had stained him. Betty quivered. She looked at him, looked away, then looked back again.

Jughead gave her a pleading look before he rushed to Archie. "Arch," Jughead said. "I'm so sorry. How's your dad doing?"

"No word yet," Alice answered for Archie. "Still in surgery."

The group of them waited together, taking turns pacing or running out for snacks and drinks. No one was hungry, but Betty could tell they were all desperate for something to do.

Betty went outside to get some air, and Jughead followed her. Betty sat on a concrete meridian near the parking lot.

"Betty," Jughead said. He sat down next to her. They were within arms distance, but he'd given her a little more space than he usually did.

The cold winter air tickled Betty's neck. Despite the cold, the sun had reached high in the sky, peeking between two grey clouds like a spy peering out between two curtains. Betty felt uncomfortable and out of her element. This felt like a situation that should be happening in the evening, not before lunch, but she cursed herself for such a ridiculous thought. Betty had to restrain herself from pressing her nails into her palms. She wanted to break the skin and feel something. Instead, she gripped her kneecaps through her jeans.

"Can I have a cigarette?" Betty asked.

"What?" Jughead was taken aback.

"A cigarette. Do you have any?"

"Yeah, um… Sure. Are you okay?" Jughead wasn't a heavy smoker, but he always carried a pack with him. He once explained to Betty he'd started carrying smokes around as a preteen for his dad, but occasionally Jughead smoked one himself when he was stressed. He reached into his jacket pocket and passed her a cigarette.

"Lighter?" Betty asked, holding the Marlboro between two fingers.

Jughead dug in his jeans pocket for his lighter. Betty placed the cigarette between her lips and leaned towards him. Jughead lit her cigarette, holding her gaze with his the entire time. Jughead's eyes were dark, pupils dilated.

Once the cigarette was lit, Betty looked away. She took a sharp draw from the cigarette, and barely restrained a cough.

"Betty, can we talk about last night? I feel like we left it on a movie cliffhanger, and I barely slept stressing," Jughead said.

"Juggie, I… I can't just yet. I'm sorry. I'm too focussed on Arch and Fred right now," she said. Closing her eyes, Betty leaned forward and took two harsh inhales. She never smoked and her mother would kill her if she caught Betty, but the little cancer stick somehow felt stabilizing. Finally, Betty looked at Jughead. "Later, I promise."

Jughead pursed his mouth in a half frown, half smile. Sighing, he pulled out a second cigarette for himself and lit it up. The two of them sat together in silence.

Halfway through the cigarette, Betty turned towards Jughead. She reached her leg over the meridian so she was straddling the concrete. She inched closer to her boyfriend.

Jughead looked at her, and without saying anything, lifted his leg over the meridian so he also straddled it. They faced each other.

Reaching up with her hand not holding the cigarette, Betty pulled his face to hers. She kissed him hard. Her hand slid up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair.

Jughead reached out with his free hand and gripped her hip, pulling her body even closer to his so her legs ended up overlapping his. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, allowing them to taste each other. Betty had never liked the taste or smell of cigarettes, but today it was both comforting and sexy. They kissed each other until they both needed to catch their breath.

Once she pulled away, gasping slightly, Betty slid her body back down the meridian. The concrete felt extra cold through her jeans, her skin hot underneath. Betty lifted her leg back over the meridian and pressed her legs together. She needed to control herself. Betty took a sharp inhale on her almost forgotten cigarette, feeling guilty. How could she be thinking about Jughead at a time like this? Shooting a look in his direction, Betty almost resented him for distracting her.

Squishing the cigarette under her shoe, Betty stood up.

"Wait, I'll come in with you," Jughead said. His cheeks were flushed, whether from the cold or their kiss, Betty didn't know.

"No, it's okay, take your time. I'll see you back in there," Betty said. She gave his flannel shoulder a squeeze before heading back in on her own.

* * *

Two weeks later, it felt like not much had changed. Betty never thought of herself as philosophical – she left that to Jughead – but time seemed to be slipping past her quicker than usual, like sand slipping through an hourglass.

Everyone seemed to be moving too fast, even herself. Somehow Betty had been dragging herself to school and going through the motions, although she barely paid attention. Two weeks since the incident, Archie hadn't come back to school yet, so Veronica was bringing him his assignments.

Cheryl, for some reason still unknown to the group, had missed a week of school. Betty and her friends heard through the news that Thorn Hill had fallen victim to arson. According to Kevin through his father, Cheryl and her mother were claiming someone had attacked their home in retaliation to Clifford Blossom's actions. The police were investigating.

Veronica was trying to be supportive for Archie, keeping him company in the hospital as much as possible, but Betty also knew she was stressing about her father. Hiram Lodge was getting out of prison in two more weeks.

Jughead had officially transferred to Southside High, although Betty couldn't accept it yet. The distance between them felt like it was growing, and the two of them hadn't even had a proper conversation yet about what was going on. Technically the jacket meant he was a part of the Southside Serpents, but Betty didn't know how involved that meant.

There was a lot of speculation about the incident at Pop's. The police struggled to find more information. Most people wondered if it was a random break in, but no one had tried to rob Pop's for twenty-five years. The last time had been a sullen teenager with a knife looking for extra cash. Nothing as serious as the present incident.

Other people, like Betty, speculated it was something more. It seemed too randomly specific, or maybe she was reading too much into how much she and her friends had been through the past few months. Did someone have it out for Fred Andrews? Was the robbery a cover up so the assailant could specifically target Archie's father? Betty had no answers. Not yet at least.

Betty could barely sleep thinking about all of this, not to mention her dense dreams about Jughead. Every night Betty woke breathing hard, sweat beading across her chest and forehead. The dreams were almost always the same – him in leather, on top of her, pinching her hips, groping her breasts, and peeling off her clothes. She seemed to wake up before anything escalated, a frustrating dream version of ground hog day.

Despite the snow, Betty got up early that morning in December and went for a run, stretching her legs as far as she could. Winter break was about to start. She ran a solid 7 KM before heading home, finishing the last 500 M at a sprint. When she reached home, Betty had to bend over to catch her breath. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and the blood pounded in her ears, neck, and chest.

Suddenly, she had an idea. She'd been avoiding Jughead, afraid of what he might say. Not anymore. No matter what, if he was a Southside Serpent or not, Betty wanted him back at school with her, back in her life. She loved Jughead. She needed him.

First things first, she'd get him on board with helping her investigate what happened to Fred. No offense to Kevin's dad, but the police barely knew what was up in this town. Betty knew nothing brought her and Jughead together quite like solving a case. Once they were working on that, Betty could figure out how to get him back at Riverdale High. She couldn't deny anymore how sexy seeing Jughead in that jacket had been, but she wasn't about to settle and accept the fact that he was a serpent.

If Betty wanted to get her way, she would have to play the role of a different kind of serpent, creeping into the belly of the beast. She would slither in and get Jughead away from that crowd, get him back home to her where he would be safe, and solve the case along the way.

Still out of breath from her run, Betty marched back into her house. She smiled to herself. Maybe she was being too idealistic, but she didn't care. If she had to embrace Dark Betty to make sure Jughead was safe, as well as figure out who hurt Archie's dad, so be it. Like the sexual animal waking up in her abdomen, Betty was ready to embrace her darker side.

* * *

A/N: Well, that's chapter one! Let me know what you think. I expect this to be a longer piece. I know there's not much of Jughead in this chapter, but I promise there will be more in the next chapter.

Also, anybody else have _Believer_ by Imagine Dragons stuck in their head today? Seriously I can't get over that finale.


	2. Two: Does the Postman Always Ring Twice?

A/N: Thanks to everyone for the reviews so far! I'm excited to continue the story. I promise there will be more Jughead in this chapter. Like the episode titles for season one, I've decided that each chapter title in the story will be a variant on the name of a film. Obviously I don't own the rights to _Riverdale_ , Archie comic characters, any of the films I use for chapter titles, or the song lyrics I quote from Salt-N-Pepa in this chapter.

Chapter 2: Does the Postman Always Ring Twice?

The sheets wrapped around their naked torsos pressed them together, their limbs tangled like spaghetti noodles. He kissed her and kissed her, lips moving down her jaw to her neck, but when he pulled away and looked at her face –

Jughead woke up with a quiet, "Oh." It wasn't one of those dreams that made him sit up, gasping for breath. His body remained stiff, turned on his right. His one leg lay over top of the blanket while the other remained underneath. He was sweating, sweating like he had been sitting in a sauna. His face felt clammy to the touch, what with the blood clearly rushing to a different area of his body.

"Goddammit," he mumbled. This wasn't his first dirty dream about Betty Cooper. Jughead's subconscious taunted him often. He'd had them occasionally before, but ever since the night of the Jubilee, they happened more frequently. He'd tasted her skin that night, felt the heat of her body. The way her ribs had expanded while she was breathing hard during their make out in his trailer haunted him. It didn't help that the two of them had been awkward since then. Jughead assumed she was mad at him for accepting the offer of the Southside Serpents, not to mention she was preoccupied with Fred Andrews.

Jughead shoved his blanket from his body, kicking it down into a crumpled pile below his feet. A baby blue down-filled duvet – he still wasn't used to this house, let alone the unfamiliar bedding. He'd been living with his foster family for a couple of weeks, but it still felt strange, like a hotel. No, more like a hostel where the management acted as his legal guardians.

The Stuarts were a nice family. Susan and Gil were an older couple in their sixties. They had two kids of their own who'd already grown up and moved away. The house was modest, a narrow two-story building, but it was homey. The walls were covered with framed photos of the family, the rooms filled with the scent of flowers, and the radio was always turned on in the kitchen. Much more comfortable than Jughead had ever been in his parents' house.

But still, it wasn't home. He was a stranger in this bed, and he was too far away from Betty.

Jughead got out of bed and pulled a pair of sweat pants over top of his boxers. His clock read 6:04 AM, but he clearly wasn't going back to bed anytime soon. Leaving his room, he could already hear his foster mother, Susan, puttering around downstairs. She woke up before 5:30 AM everyday.

Jughead walked down the hall and climbed into the shower. Today the water needed to cold. Nothing like a freezing wakeup call to chase away the dreams.

After he finished, Jughead got dressed in one of his usual outfits: grey Henley, red flannel, and jeans with his suspenders hanging around his waist. Don't forget his beanie. Last, he slipped on his new jacket. Susan had bought him a winter pea coat after a week of living with them.

"I noticed none of your jackets were proper winter attire," Susan said when she gave the jacket to him. "If it doesn't fit, let me know and we can exchange it."

"Thanks," Jughead said. His cheeks had turned a dark red, blushing from embarrassment and gratitude. This woman didn't even know him. He wanted to tell her she didn't need to buy him anything, but she looked so happy when he tried the jacket on. It was a little preppy for his taste, but Jughead made it work.

Slipping downstairs, Jughead walked to the front door, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

"Forsythe – I mean, Jughead –you're up early! Want some breakfast?" Susan asked.

Jughead turned around, his face slightly sheepish as if he'd been caught doing something bad. Susan stood in the kitchen doorway smiling at him.

"No thank you, Susan," he said. "I'm going to visit my friend's dad in the hospital before school."

"Well, let me at least send you on the road with a coffee," she said. Before he could protest, Susan turned around and grabbed a travel mug from the cupboard. Jughead could hear her filling it up. "Two scoops of sugar with just a bit of cream, right?" she called.

"Yep, that's right!" Jughead called back awkwardly. Maybe this place was less like a hostel and more like a B&B. He wasn't ready to be this comfortable with Susan and Gil yet.

Susan brought him out his coffee and sent him on his way with a pat on the shoulder.

Last night, he received a call from Archie. It was almost 11 PM, and Jughead was smoking a cigarette on the back porch of his foster family's house.

"My dad's awake," Archie said. Archie laughed a breathy laugh, clearly relieved. "The doctors are finally moving him out of the ICU."

"Arch, that's great news!" Jughead said, butting his cigarette out under his boot. "Want me to come to the hospital tonight?"

"No, don't worry, Jug. If you want to come by tomorrow though, I'll be here before school."

"You're going back to school?"

"No, well… Not tomorrow at least. My mom says I should the day after. Although, I don't really see the point since winter break is starting in a couple of days."

Jughead could tell Archie didn't want to talk about it. "Don't turn into one of those weirdo home-schooled kids on me, Arch. You have to go back," Jughead said, making a feeble attempt to lighten the mood. "But yeah, I'll come by tomorrow before school."

Leaving the house the next morning, Jughead walked to the trailer park instead of going straight to the bus stop like he told Susan.

It was the dead middle of December, so the sun took its time to fully wake up. The winter chill clung to Jughead's cheeks and neck. Jughead reached up and pulled his beanie farther down over his ears. Taking a sip from Susan's travel mug, Jughead felt grateful for the warmth of the coffee. Walking up to his father's trailer, Jughead noticed how deserted it looked. Nothing had changed since F.P was locked up, but somehow the trailer gave off the aura of neglect. Maybe it missed F.P, Jughead thought.

Jughead let himself inside. He sat down on one of the orange floral couches that looked like it was regurgitated by the 1960s. He breathed in through his nose and let it out loudly through his mouth. Funny how this trailer, the home he avoided for months when F.P fell off the wagon, had become his safety net in the past few weeks. New school, new family, new problems – this trailer had become his hiding place. It was also where he kept the jacket.

Slipping out of his new peacoat, Jughead left it on the couch before walking to the closet. He pulled out the leather jacket, running his fingers over the stitching on the back. Jughead traced the outline of the yellow eye, his favourite part. The jacket weighed more than it looked. Slipping on the jacket, Jughead looked in the mirror. He didn't realize he was smiling until he looked at his reflection.

When F.P wore the jacket, Jughead never saw it as something cool or desirable. His father's jacket was a barrier between the father and son, a reminder of how their family had fallen apart. It wasn't until Jughead had his own jacket that he realized how much he wanted it. This small leather token gave him a feeling of belonging. The leather encasing his shoulders and back gave him the strength to do whatever the fuck he wanted.

Turning from the mirror to the kitchen counter, Jughead dug through the drawers. When he found what he was looking for, he grinned. "Hello getaway car," he said. He dangled the keys to his father's truck in front of his face like a cat playing with a mouse.

He hadn't used the truck yet, instead choosing to leave it parked by the trailer. Jughead had avoided using it over the past few weeks, as taking the truck seemed like an acknowledgement that his dad was locked up for good. With the jacket on, he felt less like a wuss. He could use the truck, but it didn't mean his dad wouldn't get out of jail. No, if Jughead had any say in it, his dad would be getting out much sooner than the police wanted. Jughead would make sure of it.

* * *

Fred Andrews still didn't look great. Some colour had returned to his cheeks, but Fred still looked a little grey, almost ashy. The whole ordeal seemed to have aged him ten years in just a few weeks. He was also in desperate need of a shave, his beard moving beyond the barrier of scruffy to woodsman. Fred wasn't up and walking yet, but he seemed determined to make it happen soon.

"It's good to see you, Jug," Fred said when Jughead walked in to the hospital room.

Although he wasn't the hugging type, Jughead leaned down to Fred and gave him a hug. Fred was like his second father. Jughead realized he'd been carrying a lot of tension in his back since Fred had been shot. It wasn't until he heard Fred's voice did Jughead let that tension go.

"Glad to see you better, Fred," Jughead said. "You definitely gave us a scare."

Mary Andrews gave Jughead's shoulder a pat as he walked out to see Archie. Jughead paused. Why did every adult want to pat him on the shoulder like that?

"Hey Jug, thanks for coming," Archie said. His smile was weak, and Jughead took note of the purple circles under Archie's eyes. Archie looked thinner too. He probably wasn't eating.

"I'm just happy to see Fred awake. Riverdale isn't the same without his voice of reason. Seriously – without him, we'd be left with all the neurotic parents," Jughead said. He sat down next to Archie. "Have you been sleeping at all? It doesn't look like it."

Archie laughed. The noise sounded forced and raspy. "That obvious?"

Jughead rubbed the back of his own neck. "If you're hoping to keep it a secret, I'd ask Ronnie to borrow some concealer for under your eyes," Jughead said. He put on a valley girl voice. "Although her skin tone is a little dark for you _ginger_ , so maybe you should ask Betty."

Archie shoved his shoulder against Jughead's, but Jughead was relieved to see a real, full smile take over Archie's face. It had been awhile since he'd seen one of those on his best friend's face.

After Jughead's hospital visit, he drove to school in his dad's truck. The old beater rumbled underneath him. Jughead didn't bother turning on the radio, instead enjoying the sound of his new motorized freedom.

He still wasn't used to driving to Southside High instead of Riverdale High. From the outside, the schools weren't that different. Southside was definitely more rundown, needing a paint job and a new fence. There were fewer planted trees outside, so beyond the edges of the school field the industrial part of Riverdale felt more like it was encroaching on the school. Every student had to go through a metal detector to get inside, but none of this bothered Jughead. Like he'd said to his dad that one day when he visited him in lock up, Southside was as predictable as Riverdale. The school had the same variety of cliques and almost as much drama.

The major difference between the two schools was Betty. Jughead missed seeing her everyday. Southside High didn't even have a newspaper, not that he would've wanted to work on one without Betty at this side. In fact, Jughead had barely done any writing over the past couple of weeks. The distance between him and Betty felt jarring. Jughead was scared to put his fingers to his laptop keys and articulate what the awkwardness between them meant.

Parking his car, Jughead swallowed hard. He remembered his earlier courage from the morning. Pulling out his phone, Jughead typed out a text message.

 _Jughead: Betts – I saw Arch's dad this morning. He's awake and doing better. I miss you. Are you free after school? I'd love to see you._

He clicked send before shoving his phone in his pocket. As he waited in the line up to go through the metal detector, he heard his phone bing.

 _Betty: You read my mind. I was just about to text you. Meet me halfway at Pop's? 3:15 PM?_

Jughead smiled down at the screen.

 _Jughead: I'll make you a better offer. How about I come pick you up? I'm taking advantage of F.P's truck. I can drive us to Pop's or wherever we want to go._

Jughead put his phone in the side tray along with his keys. He walked through the metal detector without a beep. Collecting his belongings on the other side, Jughead peered at his phone.

 _Betty: Sounds good_ _I'll wait for you after school in the parking lot._

Jughead made his way to his first class of the day, lost in his Betty trance. He should be embarrassed by how happy that one little emoji made him feel. Jughead couldn't wait to see her actual smiling face. He would fix whatever was going on with them.

Jughead sat in the back of his English class. He was early for once. Scrolling through his phone, Jughead went to the local newspaper's website to see if Alice Cooper had written anything scandalous lately, possibly an article about the suspicious fire at the Blossom's.

Jugheard heard someone sit down in the seat next to him and caught a glimpse of black leather out of the corner of his eye.

"Nice jacket."

Jughead turned and looked at Jonny, the member of the serpents who paid a visit to Jughead with the rest of the crew that night at the trailer. He was the one with the dog, Hot Dog.

"Thanks," Jughead said keeping his tone neutral.

Jonny reached out and gave the collar of Jughead's pea coat a tug with a sneer at the corner of his mouth. "Why aren't you wearing your leather jacket yet?" he asked.

Jughead shrugged. He didn't know if he needed to prepare for an argument or not. Jonny's face was hard to read.

Jonny laughed, surprising Jughead. "You're as monosyllabic as your dad," he said. "How's he doing?"

Jughead smiled faintly before letting it fade as he thought of F.P. "Good I guess, all things considered. He doesn't deserve to be locked up."

Jonny nodded, glancing to the front of the class. More students trickled in, as well as the teacher. He leaned over to Jughead and lowered his voice. "If you're going to be one of us," Jonny said. "You have to dress the part."

Back to the jacket. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to commit to being a serpent," Jughead said.

"We're not forcing you to get the tattoo Jughead," Jonny said. He smirked. "Not yet at least."

Jughead didn't know if he was kidding.

"But you should dress the part. It can help save your ass. You'll always know who's loyal to a serpent," Jonny said.

"And I'll always know who hates them," Jughead replied.

Jonny raised his palms up in the air, his form of a shrug. "There are two sides to the coin. Get used to it."

Jonny turned away from Jughead as the teacher called to get everyone's attention. Jughead stared at his desk, barely able to listen to the lecture on Shakespeare.

* * *

Like he had most days over the past few weeks, Archie stayed at the hospital all day. This day was already a hundred times better than the rest – hearing his dad's voice made Archie want to whip out his guitar and play a concert for the whole hospital. Instead, he settled for talking to his dad, comforting him, and helping him shave his face. Fred still needed his rest, so he took a nap around lunchtime.

Archie was making a feeble attempt at his Biology homework that Veronica brought him the day before when Cheryl Blossom walked down the hallway.

"Cheryl, what are you doing here?" Archie asked. His thick rust coloured eyebrows rose in surprise.

Cheryl held out a bouquet of white flowers wrapped beautifully in forest green paper. "They're snowdrops. I guess they're the 'Get Well' version of flowers. Anyways they're for you, or your dad more specifically."

Archie stood and faced her. He took the flowers and smiled at her. Cheryl was dressed impeccably as usual, a dark blue dress accentuating her red curls. She had a new broach pinned above her heart: a black scorpion. Her cheeks were rosy, and she looked a lot better than the last time he saw her.

"Thanks," Archie said. He reached out with his free hand and pulled her into a half hug. He felt her nails cling to his back for a moment, eliciting a slight shiver up his spine. Pulling away, Archie gestured to the chairs where he had been sitting. Archie closed his biology textbook and put the flowers down on top.

Cheryl sat down next to him, crossing one leg over the other. "I saw Veronica at school, and she said your dad woke up. I'm glad to hear he's doing better," she said. "I wouldn't want you to join me in the 'Dead Dad' club."

"Oh Cheryl-" Archie starts, but she cuts him off with a sharp laugh.

"Sorry, bad joke," Cheryl said. She brushed his forearm with her fingertips.

"How have you been holding up?" Archie asked.

"Did you hear about Thornhill?" Cheryl asked.

Archie grimaced. "Yes, I'm sorry," he said. "That's awful. I know how much you loved your home. Any idea who did it?"

Cheryl shrugged, and Archie was surprised to see her cherry lips turn upwards. "The police think it was one of the many people with a hate on for my dad. I mean, who doesn't these days? Perhaps one of the serpents since the mayor thinks they were working for my dad, now that their heroin business has been interrupted. Who knew daddy liked snakes so much?"

Archie stared at her, mouth slightly agape. Cheryl grinned at him in a way that disturbed him. "You and your mom must be… devastated," he finally said.

"Oh yes." Cheryl laughed. "Well, she is. I can't tell you how freeing it is not being in that house. I didn't realize until it all came out how suffocating it was in Thornhill. You could pretty much smell the stink of scandal and secrets. Now we get to start fresh. Even without the insurance money, mommy still has enough to get us a place wherever we want."

Without thinking, Archie reached for her hand, curling her fingers in his. She was reacting weirdly, but Archie could understand. He bet Cheryl was pushing away how upset she was to protect herself. He couldn't imagine she'd told anybody about what happened at the river. She insisted afterward they didn't take her to the hospital, which Archie hadn't felt comfortable with. "I get that. But you know Cheryl, if you ever need to talk…" He let the sentence hang.

She smiled warmly, her red lips spreading up her face. She squeezed his hand. "Thanks Archiekins." She pecked him on the cheek, staining his cheek with the evidence of her kiss. She stood up and readjusted her jacket.

"Heading back to school?" Archie asked.

"Nah, I'm ditching today. Might go do some shopping," Cheryl said. She blew him a kiss.

Leaving the hospital, Cheryl ran into Archie's mother by the front entrance. She told Mary she stopped by to drop off flowers. "Also, I see where Archie gets the good looks from!" Cheryl said, giving Mary a wink.

Mary laughed awkwardly but said thank you. Cheryl didn't need to introduce herself for Mary to know who she was. The Blossoms were recognizable wherever they went.

Mary walked back to Archie. She took note of the kiss marking her son's cheek. "I'm sure Cheryl's a nice enough girl, Archie," Mary said with a chuckle, sitting down next to her son. "But I'd be careful with that one."

Archie blushed. He reached up and attempted to rub off the kiss with his shirt sleeve. Although it meant nothing, Archie thought about Veronica and felt a small twinge of guilt.

* * *

After school, Betty stood in the school parking lot waiting for Jughead. Veronica said bye to her, explaining she was stopping by her house to talk to her mom before heading to the hospital to see Archie.

"Tell him I say hi," Betty said. "I'll try and stop by later, but if not, definitely tomorrow."

"I'll give him and Fred your love, B," Veronica said, blowing Betty a kiss goodbye.

Betty didn't have to wait long for Jughead. She heard the rumble of F.P's pickup before she saw the vehicle round the corner into the parking lot.

Jughead parked next to her, leaving the truck running. He leaned over and opened the passenger door, grinning out at her. "Need a ride?"

Betty smiled back. "Only from a handsome stranger," she said as she walked over to hop in.

He winked at her. "It'll cost you."

Climbing inside, Betty closed the door behind her with a clunk. Turning back to Jughead, she leaned over and kissed him. She leaned away from his mouth, pausing an inch from his face. She made a 'mmm' noise. "You've been smoking," she said, her voice husky.

"Just a couple," he said. His pupils dilated ever so slightly. "Do you hate it?"

Betty kissed him again. "No," she said. "I can't talk, I bummed one off of you just a couple of weeks ago."

"It was understandable," Jughead said. He turned back to the wheel, and shifted the stick into drive.

A moment of silence passed between them. Betty had to brace herself as the truck clambered over a speed bump a little too quickly.

"So where do you want to go? Pop's?" Betty asked, looking out the window as they drove away from the school. She felt a wave of sadness that this school wasn't Jughead's place anymore, that they were separated.

"I was thinking," Jughead said glancing her way. "Do you want to come see where I'm living?"  
"Your foster home?" Betty looked surprised.

"Well yeah." Jughead shrugged. His eyes didn't leave the road, but Betty saw his cheeks flush slightly. "I want you to see where I'm living. Plus Susan usually makes lunch."

"Alright," Betty said. She wasn't sure what to think. Instinctive she wanted to dislike Susan or whoever this woman was. It felt like an invasion into her life with Jughead. Betty knew she was being childish though, and chided herself. She would give his foster parents a chance.

Walking into the house, Jughead called out hello to Susan. Gil was still at work. Betty followed Jughead into the kitchen, taking note of the doilies on the wallpaper and the smell of dill lingering in the air. A giant pot simmered on the stove, while Susan sat at the table reading a book.

"Susan, this is my girlfriend Betty," Jughead said.

Susan stood up to shake Betty's hand, beaming at her. "I've heard so much about you," she said. "I read your mom's articles in the newspaper. Jughead said you're an amazing writer yourself!"

Betty laughed, blushing slightly. "Definitely not amazing."

Jughead reached out and rubbed her lower back. "Don't be modest Betty, it doesn't look good on you." He gave her a smirk.

"Sit down you two," Susan said. "I made borscht today." She turned to the cupboards and pulled out two bowls and two side plates. She ladled out servings of the purplish-red soup, adding a dollop of sour cream on top. Susan popped two pieces of bread in the toaster. "You're not a vegetarian are you Betty? I can't tell you how nice it is having Jughead in the house. I like to cook too much for just me and Gil, but with Jughead, I never have to worry about left overs."

Betty smiled genuinely, looking over at Jughead. "No don't worry, I'm not a vegetarian," Betty said.

After lunch, Jughead took Betty upstairs to show her his room.

"Yes, give her a tour," Susan said. "But um… If you go in your room, make sure you don't close your door all the way!" Susan said.

Jughead glanced back at Susan aghast, but he led Betty up the stairs without replying. "Oh god that was horrifying," he said once in his room.

"I think it's sweet. She's trying to be a mother figure," Betty said.

"I don't need a mother figure, and I barely even know her," Jughead said chuckling. He swept his arms out in a wide gesture to the room. His bed was made – Susan must have come in to clean during the day. "It's just a bit too domestic for my liking."

Betty walked over and sat down on his bed, taking note of the pleated corners. Very familiar of Alice's style. "Yeah, I get that," Betty said.

"I keep some of my stuff at my dad's trailer still," Jughead said. "That way I get some privacy. Susan's nice, but definitely snoopy."

Betty glanced around the room, doing a full 360 before looking back at Jughead. Her eyes went from his socked feet up to his grey shirt, taking note of the fit of the sleeve around his biceps. "Want to go over to the trailer? For some privacy?" Betty asked.

Jughead grinned at her and took her hand. They said goodbye to Susan downstairs before hopping back into the truck.

Inside the trailer, Betty could tell both of them were thinking about the last time they were here alone together.

"Thirsty?" Jughead said. He flittered over to the kitchen. Betty could tell he felt antsy.

Betty sat down on the couch. "No, I'm good," she said. She patted the spot next to her, so Jughead walked over and joined her. Betty scooted over on the sofa so she was right next to Jughead, thigh touching thigh. Leaning down, Betty tucked her head into the crook of Jughead's neck. Instinctively, he reached his arm around her body and pulled her close.

Closing her eyes, Betty breathed in his smell. Laundry soap, tobacco, and something musky she could never quite place. It was that sexy something about Jughead that made her a little crazy.

Finally, she spoke. "Juggie, I'm so sorry."

Jughead glanced down at her, eyes wide in surprise. "Wait, what do you have to be sorry for? I'm the one who's sorry."

Betty leaned back slightly so she could look into his eyes. "I'm sorry for running off that night. I should've given you a chance to talk out what happened with the serpents. I shouldn't have snapped and ran."

Jughead shook his head. "No, no… I'm sorry for shutting down on you. Betty I don't want to push you away. If taking the jacket and starting a relationship with the serpents is going to affect our relationship, then I'll give it back. I don't need their support anyway," Jughead said. His jaw was set, and Betty could tell he was serious.

Betty sat up straight and took Jughead's hands into her own. "I love you for saying that… so much," Betty started. "But that's not what I want."

Jughead's eyebrows crawled together. He waited for an explanation.

"You _should_ be supported by them," Betty said. "In a way, they were your dad's other family. Don't get me wrong – obviously I don't want you to get too involved with them. I know I can't tell you what to do, but…"

"What, you wouldn't find a snake tattoo sexy, Betts?" Jughead teased.

Betty laughed, but controlled her face again. "But seriously, Jug – if you want their support, I'll try and be understanding. I mean, just a couple weeks ago I published an article in their defense!"

The words _serpent slut_ slipped into Jughead's head with a new meaning, but he kept the thought to himself. "So… you're okay with me hanging out with them?" Jughead asked. "At least the guys at my school."

Betty nodded slowly. "I'm wrapping my head around it still, but yes. In fact -" she blushed faintly and wriggled around in her seat. "I have a favour to ask of you."

Jughead found himself hoping she would ask him if he'd wear the jacket for her, but the thought dissipated like a pipe dream when she continued.

"I was hoping you could use your new connections to ask about Archie's dad," Betty said.

"Fred? What about him?" Jughead asked. He pulled his hands from Betty's.

"I don't think they did it, don't worry. I'm just curious if any of the Serpents might've heard rumours about whoever might've done it, Jug," Betty said. "Seriously –what the hell are the police doing? Nothing has happened, no arrests made."

"Betty -"

"Hear me out. It doesn't hurt to ask. Don't you want answers too?" Betty reached out and rubbed Jughead's shoulders. When he nodded, she grinned. "Plus, just because you're at a different school, doesn't mean you can't still be the Watson to my Sherlock."

"Pffft," Jughead scoffed. "More like you're my Watson. I have the beanie – obviously I'm Sherlock."

Betty leaned over and kissed him. "So is that a yes? Will you use those new connections a little bit?"

Jughead nodded. "Fine, you've worn me down."

He reached out and pinched her hip, making her squirm away from him. Jughead tried to pin her down to tickle her, but somehow wound up with Betty on top blowing a raspberry in his neck, the surest way to make Jughead laugh. It was an embarrassing secret weakness he wished he'd never revealed to Betty.

Betty let him catch his breath. It didn't take long. Pulling her back down to him, Jughead kissed her hard, holding her face to his. His tongue slipped into her mouth while his fingers freed her hair from her ponytail.

Betty nibbled his lower lip while her hands explored his torso. She heard Jughead growl faintly. Reaching for the edge of his shirt, Betty lifted the fabric up his body. Jughead let go of her face long enough to lift his arms up so she could get the shirt off. Her blouse followed shortly. Pressing her torso to his, Jughead felt the heat radiating off her skin. The sensation somehow reminded him of climbing into a bed with sheets still hot from the dryer, but a hundred times better.

Jughead kissed down her neck and nipped her exposed collarbone. Betty let out a little gasp, like a cat waking up. He pinched her hips through her jeans, slowly tracing his fingers to the zipper of her pants.

Jughead felt her freeze up ever so slightly. He moved his hands back to her hips.

"No, it's okay," Betty said against his lips. Pushing up off of him, Jughead felt a twinge of disappointment, until she was standing next to couch. Betty undid the zipper of her jeans and inched them down her legs. Stepping out of them, Betty stood in front of him in her matching pink bra and panties.

Jughead didn't realize how much he worshiped the inventor of lace until he saw her like that. His jaw dropped. "Jesus you're beautiful," he whispered. Her body looked perfect to him.

Betty blushed, but she tried to hold onto her confidence. "Now yours," she said.

"Yes ma'am," he said, standing up. Jughead undid his belt buckle and his pants before dropping them around his ankles.

Betty looked down at the erection pressing against his boxer briefs, her eyes wide. She bit her lower lip.

Now that they were both in their underwear, a wave of shyness passed over the couple. They stood in new, uncharted territory.

Pulling her to him, Jughead kissed her again. This time his kisses were gentle, but more feverish. Somehow they ended up back on the couch, pressed face to face. Her leg was raised over his hip, and Jughead fleetingly thought of his dream last night. Their underwear wasn't much of a barrier between them.

Betty broke off the kiss. Both of them were red in the face, gasping slightly. For a moment, they just stared at each other. Betty pushed away slightly and propped herself up on her elbow. She looked down at Jughead.

"I know we haven't talked about it," Betty said, her blush raising the temperature of her cheeks. Her finger continued to trail up and down his ribs. She felt him shiver when her finger went over his hip.

Jughead paused, before reaching his hand wrapped around her torso up to touch her hair. "About sex you mean?" He said.

Betty laughed. "Yes, about sex."

Jughead shuffled his shoulders around as if to a beat and began singing Salt-N-Peppa. " _Let's talk about sex babyyy, let's talk about you and me. Let's talk about all the good things and the bad things_ -"

"Stop!" Laughing, Betty covered his mouth with her hand. She removed her hand after she felt his lips stop moving underneath. Leaning forward, Betty kissed him again, once again nipping his lip. After they broke apart, their breathing once again altered, Betty looked at him straight on. "I think… I think I'm almost ready," she said. "Not yet, but almost."

Jughead's Adam's apple bobbed up and down in his throat. "Yeah?" Clearly he was lost for words.

"What do you think?" Betty asked.

"Well," Jughead paused, but he pulled her closer to him. "I'm sure you know that I'm a… that I'm a virgin." He looked away in embarrassment.

"So am I, Juggie," Betty said. She kissed him again, pecking his mouth then his cheek.

Jughead smiled, relieved, although he'd already guessed that. "I love you Betty, more than anything or anyone. If anybody is going to get the gift of my virginity, it's going to be you," he said, giving her a wink.

Betty laughed, giving his shoulder a shove. "A gift huh! Wow, I'm such a lucky girl," she said. She rolled on top of him, and they continued to switch between kissing and laughing for another half an hour until she had to leave. Their underwear stayed on. Both of them appreciated the fabric restraining them and resented it at the same time.

* * *

Closing the door to the penthouse behind her, Veronica tossed her purse and books down on the couch. She peered in the mirror on the vanity table, and fixed a stray hair trying to escape from her left eyebrow. "Mom?" She called out.

"Veronica?" Hermione came around the corner from the kitchen. "How was school?" Hermione wore a black pantsuit Veronica had been tempted to borrow on one or two occasions.

Veronica shrugged, frowning slightly. "Bleak as usual," she said. "It's not the same without Archie."

Hermione frowned. "Well, are you hungry? I can have Smithers order in for us."

Veronica shook her head. "No thanks mom. I'm going over to the hospital shortly. I just came to drop off my books," Veronica said. She smiled at her mother. "In fact, I wondered if you wanted to come with me? You haven't gone to see Fred Andrews yet."

Hermione perched on the couch, and crossed her legs. "You don't know that."

Veronica raised one eyebrow. "Um, alright. Archie hasn't mentioned you stopping by."

Hermione flittered her hands at her daughter in exasperation. "What does it matter? I sent flowers with you. I've been very busy you know – I still have a business to try and manage without him."

"Well, he's awake and recovering. All the more reason for you to go. Don't you need to discuss business with him? He _is_ your business partner."

Hermione swallowed and looked away from her daughter. "Your father is my business partner, Veronica."

Gritting her teeth, Veronica placed her hands on her hips. "So is Fred Andrews. Isn't that why you forged my signature just a few months ago? Jesus mother. And I thought I was the ice queen."

Hermione stood up and looked down at her daughter. "This conversation is over, Veronica. Feel free to send the Andrews my best. I'll have Smithers order in for one." Turning on her heel, Hermione walked back out of the room.

Veronica felt like kicking the couch repeatedly, but restrained herself. It wasn't worth scuffing her boots over. Grabbing her purse, Veronica walked back out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her. Maybe it was petulant, but the slam always made her feel a little better.

* * *

After Betty got a call from Veronica, Jughead drove her over to Pop's Diner.

"I can't believe he re-opened it yesterday," Betty said staring out at the familiar neon sign. The colours felt more eery than comforting now.

"Well, it's his livelihood. I guess he couldn't keep it closed for the police investigation forever," Jughead said. Silently, he agreed with her that it did feel a little too soon. Jughead kissed Betty goodbye before she hopped out.

Veronica sat waiting for her in a booth in the far corner. Her fur collar sheltered Veronica's neck like an expensive armour. For a second Betty was surprised Ronnie wasn't in their usual booth, but as she walked by their usual seat, Betty realized it was probably the booth Fred had been sitting in before it happened.

Betty sat down across from Veronica. "What's up, V? You sounded upset."

Veronica took a deep breath. "I ordered you fries and a vanilla shake. I hope that's alright."

Betty smiled. "You know me too well. Did you get your usual double malt shake?"

Veronica curled one corner of her lip upwards. "And onion rings. I need greasy comfort food."

Betty looked up when Pop walked over to drop off their food. Betty could see the stitches above Pop's eye. "So good to see you, Pop," Betty said.

He smiled down at her. "You too ladies," he said. "Nothing like getting back to the routine." He turned back to the counter without another word.

Both girls took long sips of their respective milkshakes. Betty broke the silence. "So?" she said. The milky texture coated Betty's throat, and she craved a glass of water.

"I tried to get my mom to come to the hospital to see Archie's dad," Veronica said. She shook her head vehemently, cheeks flushed in anger. She shoved an onion ring in her mouth whole. "But she refused. I don't get her. Since we heard my dad is getting out, she's shut down. She's cold again, just like she used to be."

"Used to be?" Betty asked.

"You didn't know my mom in New York," Veronica said. "She was different."

"Do you think it's because of her relationship with Fred?"

Veronica shrugged again, taking another sip of her shake. "I don't know, but it's more than cold. It's cruel. Mr. Andrews is the only person who has been kind to her since the day we arrived. If it weren't for him, my mom would still be serving here. Who knows! Maybe she would've been here for the shooting."

Both Betty and Veronica shivered, and it wasn't from the cold of their drinks.

Reaching out, Betty took Veronica's hand in her own. "Don't worry, V," she said. "I'm sure your mom is just freaked out. Your dad is getting out, which is all new territory for her. I've always been so jealous how you and your mom can communicate."

Veronica laughed. "Only sometimes."

"Better than me and Alice," Betty said. "Anyways, I'm sure she'll come around. She'll have to see Fred one day eventually."

Veronica nodded, but she still looked peeved.

"How was Archie today?" Betty asked, attempting to change the topic.

Veronica's face brightened. "Good. No _great_. He's so happy his dad is doing better. I think his mum and I have convinced him to come to school tomorrow."

"Oh good!" Betty smiled, genuinely happy for her friends. Looking up, Betty spotted Pop coming out from the back, his hands full of coffee filters. He looked exhausted.

"I'll be right back," Betty said. " Just heading to the bathroom."

On the way back from the bathroom, Betty stopped by the diner counter. Pop was kneeling down, reorganizing a shelf and mumbling under his breath.

"Hey Pop," she said.

He looked up surprised. "Hey Betty," he said. "Did you need something?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing," Betty said. Gripping the stool in front of her, she spun it back and forth. "After what happened in here."

He smiled at her, but it looked forced. "Good I guess. Still pretty freaked out. I'm happy we're open again, but –" Pop's eyes skirted away from her and across the restaurant to where Fred's body had been bleeding on the floor. "But it's still weird to be back."

Betty nodded awkwardly.

"I heard Fred is doing better," Pop said. "I've stopped by a few times to see him. His poor boy…" Pop shook his head.

Betty thought about Archie. The hospital had to put a new cast on his arm since the first one was soaked with his father's blood. "Have the police got any leads on the robbery?" Betty asked. She didn't want to call it a shooting – that seemed too violent.

Pop shook his head. "That's just it, Betty." He lowered his voice. "There wasn't actually a robbery."

Betty felt her heart hiccup. "What?"

"Nothing was stolen." Pop looked like he was about to cry. "The gunman wanted all the money from the register, beating me over the head with his… with his gun. He just kept yelling at me. Just kept _yelling_." Pop paused to take a shaky breath. "But before he even let me go to the till, the… the gunman turned to Fred. After he shot Fred, he bolted with nothing."

" _Nothing_? Not one dollar?" Betty said. Her face felt clammy, and she wasn't sure if she was obviously sweating.

"All that for nothing," Pop said. The wrinkles on his face seemed more pronounced. Like Fred, he'd aged in the last month. "That poor man. He just wanted to protect his son. That was the most terrifying day of my life, but somehow my business got off scott free. I would've rather had every last penny taken from me than have Fred Andrews be taken from his son too early."

Betty reached out and patted Pop's hand. "He's pulled through, Pop. Fred will be alright."

Cogs turned in her head, like an old car engine slowly coming to life. Betty walked back to her table with Veronica. Somehow she made small talk for the rest of dinner. She'd planned on telling Veronica about her chat with Jughead, but she was too preoccupied to remember her own gossip.

Veronica offered Betty a ride home, but Betty said no thank you. She wanted to clear her head. She made an excuse that she needed fresh air. Walking home from Pop's, Betty pondered what her conversation with Pop meant. She had a tension headache from her ponytail. The pain pulsed in her temples and in her neck.

What did it mean that no money was stolen? In her mind, the path of speculation was weaving all over the place. Something changed. Betty couldn't help but fear more and more that the incident at Pop's was less of a robbery gone wrong and more a targeted shooting. Not. One. Dollar. Taken. This piece of information seemed to indicate what she had feared: someone came to the diner to specifically shoot Fred Andrews. But why? Who had a grudge out for him?

Betty shook her head, frustrated. She didn't know enough. It was like September all over again when she was out of the know about Polly, Jason, everything – Betty _hated_ not knowing all the facts. Her legs felt restless. Betty needed to go for a run and let loose, but she couldn't in her jeans and it was too cold outside.

Getting home, Betty barely said hello to her sister before she went up to her room. Her parents were still at work. Frustrated, Betty threw her bag and jacket on bed. Staring at her perfectly made bed, Betty grimaced. She reached out and ripped the sheets and blanket off the bed, knocking her book bag off in the process. Looking down at the mess on the floor, Betty felt a slight second of relief.

Looking out her window, Betty spied the dark window of Archie's bedroom. Even in the dark, she could identify the glint of his punching bag hanging in the middle of the room. The dark leather looked like blood glinting in the night.

Without thinking, Betty stripped off her clothes. She threw on a sports bra and a pair of athletic shorts. Heading back downstairs, Betty jogged over to Archie's house and knocked. No one home. She figured Archie and Mary were still at the hospital. Reaching under the clay turtle hiding behind a potted plant, Betty grabbed the key and let herself in.

"Hello?" she called out to double check. All the lights were off, so Betty took that as the all clear. Sneaking upstairs, Betty went straight to Archie's room. Betty left the light off. The glint from her room next door poured enough light on her and the punching bag.

Archie's red gloves lay next to his bed. Betty slipped them on one at a time. Facing the bag, Betty put her arms up and moved one leg backward. She'd never done this before besides once or twice jokingly at the gym, but Betty needed to get something out of her system.

Betty punched the bag. Once. Twice. A quick one-two punch. She felt the give back of the bag against the gloves, and punched harder. Betty threw in a kick. First a side kick, then one straight on, as if she were kicking down an imaginary door. Betty punched the bag, harder and harder, sweat beginning to seep down her brow. Her shoulders felt tense, but Betty just kept punching, and punching, and _punching_.

Between her punches, Betty made a list in her head, or at least tried to. The question of the night: who in Riverdale might have it out for Fred? She paused between one punch that sent the bag spinning away from her like a swing dancer. _That's right_ – they didn't necessarily have to be in Riverdale.

Hiram Lodge wanted to get him out of the business. He could be a suspect. Veronica said her mother was being sketchy. Did Hermione know something? Betty stepped back with one leg before swinging it out to the bag as hard as she could. Alright, one pair of suspects on the list.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Betty thought of who else. Maybe the serpents for being fired from working on his site? No, that seemed farfetched. Someone having to do with the Blossoms? She shook her head. But why Fred? Betty realized she barely knew anything about Fred Andrews. Who else would want him out of the way or worse, dead? The man lived next door to her all her life, was her best friend's dad for god's sake, but she barely knew anything about him.

Betty lay into the punching bag, releasing all her aggression, until she was sweating through her sports bra. By the end, Betty was sure she'd even grunted a few times. Finally, she stopped. Leaning her forehead against the bag, Betty gasped for breath. First things first, she needed to go straight to the source. Betty had to talk to Fred himself.

Betty walked home and went straight to her room. Standing in front of her mirror, she took in the sight of her sweaty body. Betty pulled out her ponytail, grimacing at the pain. She tried to release the tension headache by massaging her scalp. Walking to the bathroom, Betty took a quick shower to rinse off. Getting her hair wet usually helped with her headaches.

Locking her door, Betty shut her blinds to her window before dropping her towel. Looking in the mirror once again, she stared at her limp hair. The blond locks hung below her shoulders, clinging to her breasts like blond leeches. Taking her hair in one hand, Betty flipped her hair upwards so it looked shorter, like the length of a bob. She smiled at her reflection.

Standing up, Betty marched to her dresser and pulled out the black wig hiding at the back. It was the same wig she wore that night with Chuck Clayton. Gingerly, she placed it over the rounded knob on her bed frame at the end of her bed. She brushed out the wig with her fingers till the hair was perfect. Picking up the wig, Betty carried it to her vanity desk, balancing it over her jewelry tree. The tree wasn't quite the shape of a head, but it would have to do to give the illusion.

Glancing between the mirror and the wig, Betty compared her blond hair and the black hair. Slipping open her desk drawer, Betty pulled out a pair of scissors. Positioning herself, Betty lifted the scissors to her hair. She matched the blades up to the same length as the bob. Betty took one deep breath. She snipped, letting the hair tumble down to the floor. Betty kept snipping, a fervour growing in her fingers. She began to laugh. Bye bye perfect Betty. No more ponytails.

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A/N: So there we have it! Chapter 2 all done. Wow that ended up being way longer than I expected. Although this is mostly about Jughead and Betty, I'm trying to include the other characters and subplots to keep it similar to the show. I hope you guys like the little interjection with Cheryl. I love Cheryl's craziness, and I feel like it's really going to come out in season 2. I can't wait to hear what you guys think, especially about the ending with Betty's hair. Please review!


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